


The World Ahead

by December_Daughter



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Background Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/December_Daughter/pseuds/December_Daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone survives the Battle of Five Armies, but that's not the end of the road for Kili and Tauriel. What world - what future is there for an Elf and a Dwarf who refuse to be parted from one another again? And how do they get there? (Heavy on the fluff, light on the plot).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, everyone survived BOTFA, because of course they did. I started writing this 'cause my heart needed it after seeing the movie. There's not a whole lot of plot and the story is told in snippets that focus on Kili/Tauriel. There might be a little Thorin/Bilbo at some points.
> 
> Spoilers: light spoilers for the last movie. I've tried to keep them vague.

**Home is behind, the world ahead,**

**and there are many paths to tread.**

-excerpt from "A Walking Song", J.R.R. Tolkien

* * *

 

In the days following the battle, Tauriel had a hard time balancing her desire to be helpful – to do her duty, as it was – and her desire not to have Kili out of her sight. In the end it came down to one truth: she could do nothing further to help the sons of Durin, but there was much she could do to help the injured and fallen. So it was that Tauriel spent much of her time in the aftermath carrying the wounded off of the battlefield, helping the healers, and organizing a different clean up or regrouping effort nearly every day. The work was hard, both mentally and physically, and yet the elleth welcomed the exertion. Despite the distraction, there was one tent in specific that never truly left her line of sight. She knew where that tent was at any moment, day or night, regardless of how weary or overworked she was. There was nothing to outwardly distinguish the tent – it was as white and non-descript as the rest that stood in the long line of healer's tents – and yet it was the only structure on the battlefield that really mattered to the she-elf. Kili was in that tent.

Tauriel was a common sight, both on the battlefield and off. She had no idea that she was noticed – that her presence was remarked upon by Men and Dwarves alike – or that her long hours of work and ceaseless assistance for anyone who needed it was earning her a reputation that, had she known, would have made her uncomfortable. She was a warrior, not a politician, and so it was perhaps for the best that she didn't realize that the people of Dale had begun to view her as a leader in her own right, second only to Bard the Bowman. Few thought to question why the elleth remained when Thranduil's company retreated to Mirkwood; those who did dismissed the thought quickly enough. The reasons for her continued presence mattered less than her presence itself.

The only thing more certain, more fixed than Tauriel's aid in the regrouping efforts was her presence in that one white healing tent. The end of every day found her wearier than the last in both body and soul; still, her feet knew every path to the place where Kili was, and would carry her there without conscious effort. Every morning she went out to help, and every evening she returned to keep a quiet vigil.

She was dirty that evening as she returned to the dwarves' tent. She could feel the scratch of dirt in each spot that it clung to her skin, and longed for a bath in hot-spring fed pools. Her heart lurched painfully when she realized that the pools she was thinking of were in Mirkwood – the home that would never be her home again.

Tauriel pushed that thought away and approached the tent. Dwalin was standing sentry outside the flap that served as a door. She gave him a barely perceptible nod and then ducked inside; had she been less weary, she might have wondered why her nightly presence there seemed to go unquestioned by the dwarves.

Inside, Balin was facing the door and seated between three makeshift tables that were raised a few feet off the ground. Thorin rested on the table to his right, and Fili and Kili on individual tables to his left. The old dwarf glanced up at her arrival and though Tauriel didn't know him well, she thought he looked older than he had the last time she'd seen him. The weight on his heart shone clearly through his eyes.

Kili was mostly unchanged, she saw, as was his brother and uncle. Tauriel divested herself of her weapons and armor, relaxing marginally when she was down to her tunic and leather jerkin, and then set about checking over the sons of Durin. Balin watched calmly and quietly from his seat, tapping the end of his pipe absently against his bottom lip. The old dwarf didn't take offense to her ministrations as easily as some of his kinsmen had the few times they'd seen her do the same thing, and she was grateful for that.

When Tauriel was finished she took her now usual seat next to Kili and her discarded armor and weapons. Night was falling outside and she could hear the first crackling embers of fires being lit over the dull murmur of conversation. Once or twice, she even made out the sound of a soft chuckle. She closed her eyes despite knowing that that night, like the many before it, would bring her no rest.

"Never seen an elf look as terrible as ye do, lass," Balin said some time later. He seemed to know that she wasn't sleeping, and his tone was gentle in a way that made Tauriel think that he was asking her how she was.

She found the idea oddly touching even though she wasn't sure how to respond. "It has been … hard," Tauriel finally answered. She didn't elaborate, and she somehow knew that she didn't have to.

She didn't miss the tears that had started to gather in Balin's eyes, or the way his gaze traveled over the still forms of the three dwarves on tables around them. Tauriel understood what wasn't being said: that it was a miracle that they had lasted as long as they had, and that they weren't expected to hold out much longer; that together, she and Balin were keeping a death watch.

Perhaps that was why the dwarves had never questioned her presence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on this for a bit so I have a lot of it written. I just wanted to put the first two chapters up together because the first one isn't very hopeful - but I promise the good times are coming. =) Also, I'm not an expert on the world of Middle Earth, so if I get something wrong please let me know.

The next evening found Tauriel a little cleaner, but her heart heavier. As a people, Elves did not deal well with death and, relatively young and inexperienced as she was, Tauriel dealt with it even worse; the loss of life that surrounded her dragged painfully at her heart. The dead had fought bravely and their ends had been well met, but that didn't keep her from feeling each loss keenly. The elleth did not look at the fallen and see Men, or Dwarves, or even Elves; she saw lives, and souls that had been released from wounded bodies. They were safe now on the other side of the Sea, but Tauriel felt their passing as though she had personally known every one of them. Her emotional turmoil was not eased by the fact that she had just ushered a member of her guard – a friend – into the Halls of Mandos.

The stars were already gleaming brilliantly against the night sky when she finally made the trek across the field to the healer's tent. For just a moment, Tauriel considered not visiting the tent at all; she was heartsick and weary of death, and afraid of what might await her there. She went anyway.

She didn't realize that the dwarf standing guard outside the tent was someone that she didn't know until she was almost upon it. Even in the dark her eyes could detect the straightening of the dwarf's shoulders and setting of his jaw. He obviously had no intention of letting her pass into the tent, and she didn't know if that made her angry or more tired.

Then Bofur stuck his head out of the tent and the ruddy glow of the firelight outlined the ridiculous curves of his hat perfectly. He saw her immediately and, before she or the guard could protest, stepped out to grasp her by the sleeve and pull her into the tent. Tauriel was so surprised that she only opened her mouth to ask what had happened when she'd already been tugged inside; the question died on her lips when it occurred to her how full the tent was. Whereas most nights passed only with her and one or two other people in attendance, the tent was now nearly overflowing with dwarves, and even a hobbit. Her heart skittered painfully in her chest. Was that it? Had the deathwatch ended while she was away?

"There ye be, lass!" a familiar voice called out. Tauriel could just discern Balin's white mass of hair near his usual spot between the tables.

Several of the dwarves between her and the old advisor shifted in response to his words and Tauriel could see Kili for the first time since arriving.

Kili, who was awake and looking at her with wide, alert eyes.

Tauriel was stunned into silence. Disbelief made the air burn in her lungs, and she stood perfectly still for one long, unbearable moment. Then a strange and choked sound escaped her, not unlike a sob that had been cut off preemptively, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. A sharp sting had started behind eyes that were too dry.

Suddenly, Kili didn't seem to be the only one looking at her.

She swept quickly out of the tent and disappeared out into the night with one hand pressed fiercely over her mouth, as if to physically contain the emotional anguish that was trying to claw its way out her chest. Tauriel walked far, until she was alone in the silver starlight. When she stopped, too out of sorts to have any real idea of where she was, she let her hand fall and tried to suck in a great lungful of air. Her heart pounded raucously in her chest and though she willed it to settle, it persisted.

The shock of finding Kili awake after the day that she'd had – after all the days that had passed without any real encouragement or sign of hope – was too much. Stepping into the tent to find his eyes on her, that same gaze that she'd thought she'd never see again, had been overwhelming. Only then did Tauriel acknowledge that she had not expected Kili to wake; that she had been preparing herself for the time when she would enter that tent for the last time. Knowing that those preparations had now been rendered unnecessary lessened the formidable weight on her heart and made her weariness feel infinitely more bearable.

The elleth didn't know how long she stayed alone under the stars. When she had control of herself once more and felt equal to the task, Tauriel returned to the tent. The unknown guard didn't try to stop her this time.

The tent was empty again except for Balin. He was on his feet and holding a cup to Kili's lips. Her heart swooped dangerously when the injured dwarf fixed his eyes on her.

"Sit down," Balin commanded. "Have some water. Y'look as though ye migh' fall where ye stand."

Tauriel listened thoughtlessly. She moved to the place next to Kili that had become hers and removed her weapons and armor. She stacked them carefully, placing them within easy reach for peace of mind, and then folded her legs beneath her as she sat.

"By my beard," Kili rasped beside her, "you're alive."

By all rights those words should have been hers, and the fact that they weren't – that he had stolen them from her – brought an unexpected and watery smile to her face.

"I knew it," he continued proudly. "Knew you'd be al'righ'."

Tauriel couldn't find the words to answer him; she had been many things of late, but she didn't think that "all right" was one of them. Admitting such, however, was beyond her at the moment.

"Rest," she said instead.

Balin brought her some water and she accepted it gratefully; by the time she'd had her fill, Kili was asleep once more. She moved closer to him and then allowed her eyes to close, singing silent praises to the Valar to the rhythm of his breathing as she did so.

For the first time since the Battle of Five Armies had begun, Tauriel was able to rest.


	3. Chapter 3

The strictest sense of duty and need to be helpful was all that could drive Tauriel from the healer's tent the next day. She lingered long that morning, until she was convinced that Kili would sleep most of the day, and when finally she could make herself leave it was not for long. She returned early, only to find that the tent was once again full of dwarves. A bolt of fear ran unchecked down her spine. The emotion was quickly tempered by a keen sense of happiness when she realized that not only was Kili awake once more, but his brother was as well. Ori – she was certain that it was Ori, as she had come to know the members of the Company well in recent days – was helping the blonde prince into a more upright position as Kili watched with tear bright eyes.

Tauriel smiled, and the smile grew when Kili cut his eyes to her over the heads of those assembled. The Company was merrymaking rather loudly around them, shouting excited greetings and coarse teases in equal measure, but she scarcely noticed them. Kili had returned to her, and now his brother had returned to him, and for the first time in what felt like ages Tauriel felt as though there might be some hope left in the world.

The captain made her way around the outer edges of the group and to Kili's side. He couldn't decide who to watch and so cast his eyes between her and his brother every few seconds until she'd reached him. He held out the hand nearest to her and she took it, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing it again to shrug out of her outer wear. A removed part of her realized that she was now wearing the same tunic that she had been the night she'd healed the wound in his leg in Laketown, and hoped that it was not a portent of things to come.

The teasing had given way to storytelling, though it was no less raucous and joyful. When Tauriel had seated and arranged herself comfortably Kili shifted just enough that he could reach out and catch the curled ends of her hair, which he tangled around his fingers; he tugged gently on them and gave her a smile that warmed every inch of her. She would have kissed him right then if they hadn't been surrounded by … well, nearly everyone.

"… Fainted, dead away!" Bofur exclaimed then. His statement was met with a round of wild laughter, which seemed to come at Bilbo's expense.

"Now, hold on just a minute!" Bilbo interjected with a raised voice. "I did not … that is to say …"

His failure to adequately defend himself set the dwarves off again. Tauriel, who had missed the beginning of the story, smiled anyway. She studied the Company as the story continued, catching the way many of them would intermittently turn their eyes to the still unconscious form of their king. Azog had injured Thorin Oakenshield gravely, but the fact that both Kili and Fili had woken – both of who had suffered injuries no less serious – seemed to weigh in his favor. Tauriel could see the hope reflected in every glance Thorin's people fixed on him, and that hope shone brightest in the faces of his nephews.

Bofur said something that Tauriel didn't catch then, but Kili started to laugh and then his laughter turned abruptly into gasping. The elleth reacted instinctively, rising to her knees and grasping him by the shoulder with one hand even as the other fluttered over his wounds.

"Breathe," she commanded. There was a note of panic in her voice as she checked the wound in his chest for fresh blood or evidence of reopening.

"Kili?" Fili called worriedly into the sudden silence.

Kili caught the hand of Tauriel's that she'd been passing over him in concern and held it tightly as he inhaled a deep, shuddering breath.

"Fine," he managed to answer around a cough. "M'fine."

Oin appeared with a water skin then and helped Kili lift his head for a long drink. Tauriel didn't meet his eyes until he pulled gently on the hand that he held; she finally fixed her eyes on his face and found him watching her warmly.

"Tauriel," he said softly as Oin retreated. Then he lifted his eyes to Fili and the others and gave them all a rakish grin. "M'fine," he reassured them again. "Just don't make me laugh."

Tauriel huffed quietly and reseated herself as the dwarves returned to their storytelling. The table that Kili was on was just high enough to make it uncomfortable for Kili to keep hold of her hand, so he begrudgingly relinquished it.

Kili didn't bother trying to return to a more upright position, but his frequent whisper-chuckles let Tauriel know that he was still awake and listening to the stories being told.

Some time later, Kili turned his head and caught her gaze. "You are tired."

Tauriel inclined her head just barely and give him a hint of a smile. "As are you," she responded.

"Do elves sleep?" Kili queried.

"In a manner." Tauriel saw that he was reaching for her hair again and inched close enough that he could sift his fingers through the tresses. "Though you might not recognize it as such."

He made no reply. She studied his face as he watched the red strands of her hair fall through his fingers. The storytellers were forgotten as they sat in companionable silence, content to be alive and together again. Tauriel watched Kili until his eyes finally slid closed and his hand stilled with his fingers still hidden in her hair. She didn't bother to remove it.

When she looked up again and took notice of the others, Balin was watching her quietly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note to say thank you to everyone who has left a comment or kudos on this story. I'm glad you're enjoying it and the feedback makes my day!

"Banished?" Kili's tone was incredulous as he studied her with wide eyes.

"Banished," Tauriel confirmed.

"And he really broke your bow?"

The she-elf grimaced and didn't answer immediately. She had left much out of the story when she'd given Kili a brief retelling of the events that transpired before she'd found him atop Ravenhill, and she knew him well enough to know that he would soon realize that she was withholding something.

"Why would he break your bow in the midst of a battle?" Fili asked from where he lay. "That's madness."

Tauriel sighed. Kili was quick enough on his own, but with Fili also awake and taking part in the conversation she should have realized that they'd suspect something sooner rather than later. She postponed her answer by focusing on changing the poultice on the wound in Fili's side.

"Thranduil was angry," she said finally. "Though, I suppose an argument could be made for self defense. I was angry at him for leaving, for abandoning the fight, and I took up arms against him."

Fili's mouth fell open. "You …?"

"Tauriel," Kili interrupted sharply. She'd never heard such hardness in his tone before and locked gazes with him automatically. "You held the king of Mirkwood – your king – at arrow point? Why?"

"As I said, I was angry. For centuries Thranduil has hid behind the walls of his palace and done nothing, and all the while the evil grows. I could not simply let him leave while countless others fell to orcish blades, while you -." She caught herself there, all at once painfully aware that they were having this conversation while Fili was literally between them. Tauriel cleared her throat and tried to continue on in a more even tone. "I do not regret it, unwise though it may have been. I would rather spend all of my long years homeless and alone than serve a king who can knowingly turn his back on the suffering of innocent people."

"You're not alone," Kili said fiercely. Then, with an audible grunt, he struggled to pull himself into an upright position and then started to slide off of the mending table.

"What are you doing?" Fili cried. "Don't be an arse, Kee."

"Kili," Tauriel said simultaneously. "You must not reopen your wounds."

He ignored them both, of course, and endeavored to take a step away from the table. Tauriel left Fili's side in a rush of air to stop Kili before he could take another step. She reached for him and he met her halfway, grabbing one of her hands in both of his and pressing it earnestly into his chest.

"You're not alone, Tauriel," he repeated.

"Kili …"

"I told you, I'm not afraid. And I promise that as long as I'm living, you will never be alone."

"That is not a promise you can keep." Her voice was soft, and hopeful in a way that she had not given it leave to be.

"I can try."

His words were so warm, so sincere and heartfelt that Tauriel had no choice but to kiss him. She was not so much taller than him, after all, and it took nothing more than a slight bend at the waist to lean down and press her lips to his. Tauriel kissed him ardently. All of the longing that she'd fought against; all of the regret for chances missed; and the fear of losing him that even now beat in her breast, all of it seemed to pour out of her at the first brush of their lips. She had known that she loved him the moment he'd pressed that rune stone into her hand and left her standing on the lakeshore and now, finally, she had the chance to show him.

Fili cleared his throat after a long minute. Kili pulled away from her regretfully, though it was perhaps for the best; the wound in his chest was starting to burn and pull painfully. He ignored the sensation in favor of smiling widely at his love.

Tauriel was not fooled by his careless front. She helped him carefully maneuver himself back on to the mending table and pushed on his shoulder gently until he had lain down again.

She didn't care what Fili thought, really, or anyone else for that matter, but she knew that Kili did. Tauriel may have been an only child but she understood that Fili and his opinion meant the world to his younger brother, and so she took a deep breath and schooled her features into perfect passivity before turning around to face the blonde dwarf. What would Fili have to say about his little brother throwing in with an elf, and a banished, disgraced one at that?

Fili looked from Tauriel to Kili and then back again. His eyebrows drew down into something that wasn't quite a glare.

"The line of Durin owes you a life debt, Tauriel," Fili said slowly. "I can't …"

The tent flap was shoved out of the way as Bilbo stepped through and cut off whatever Fili was going to say next. Tauriel had a bare second to glance at the hobbit before a rattling cough permeated the air. Startled, she glanced quickly at both Fili and Kili, but neither of them had made the sound.

Four confused sets of eyes – three of them intensely hopeful – turned to look at the still form of Thorin Oakenshield. As they watched, stunned, Thorin started to cough again and turned his head slowly as he moved to bring a hand up to his face.

"Thorin!" Bilbo cried as he darted to the dwarf's side.

"Uncle!" Fili and Kili cried simultaneously.

Tauriel moved quickly. She cleared the distance to where Thorin lay in two long strides and leaned over to look into his face. Thorin had turned instinctively toward Bilbo at the sound of his voice, but the sudden appearance of Tauriel startled him and he struck out blindly with one arm. The movement was slow and she tipped her head back just enough that his hand swept nothing but empty air. Thorin groaned painfully even as Bilbo tried to reassure him.

"You're safe, Thorin," Bilbo soothed. "The battle is over, you're safe."

"Fili," Thorin grumbled brokenly. "Kili."

"They're here, they're alive," Bilbo answered.

Fili and Kili called in unison, "Over here!"

Thorin began to struggle to pull himself up. When Tauriel stretched an arm toward him – whether to push him back or help him up she wasn't entirely sure – he made a sound like a growl and knocked her arm away feebly.

"What is she doing here?" Thorin demanded. He didn't look at her.

Thorin was facing away from her and so did not see her gaze slide over his shoulder and fix on his youngest nephew. There was relief and no small amount of hope in Kili's eyes, but his expression had turned suddenly dark and wary. He glanced quickly at Fili in a silent message that she didn't understand and then met her eyes.

"She ..," Kili started.

"Nothing," Tauriel said quickly, interrupting him. "I will find Balin."

The elleth slipped easily from the tent. Her ears rang with the sound of Kili calling her name as she fled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite chapter so far. Thank you for your support of this story. =)

"I'll not hear any more of it!" Thorin thundered. The effort of raising his voice sent him into a coughing fit that had Bilbo bringing him a water skin and Balin shaking his head disapprovingly.

"She saved his life, uncle," Fili reminded him quietly.

"Four times!" Kili had long since lost any semblance of calmness and didn't bother checking his anger. "And tended my wounds since, and Fili's, and yours!"

Thorin looked to Balin in silent question. The old dwarf sighed heavily. "She's a good lass," Balin said. "Kili owes her his life, and probably Fili as well. And she has been here every day since we brought you down the hill."

"Which she helped with," Bilbo added. He shrugged when Thorin glared at him. "It's true."

"And what of the last three days?" Thorin railed. "We've not seen hide nor hair of the She-Elf since …"

"You woke up and acted like a cave troll," Kili interrupted venomously.

"She's been here," Bilbo said. "Slips in every night after you're all asleep, and leaves at first light." Then, when Thorin and Balin's stares made him uncomfortable he added, "I've been having trouble sleeping."

"Even if that's true, what would you have me do? She could not live in the mountain even if she wanted to. Even if I would allow it. She is an Elf, Kili. There is no place for her here."

"Her place is with me." Kili said the words evenly, almost quietly, but they reverberated in the small space of the tent. The only one that looked surprised by his declaration was Thorin. Kili clenched his jaw and lowered himself slowly off of the mending table and onto his feet. "I love her."

Thorin's head snapped up as if he'd been struck. Both of his heavy brows drew down over his eyes, but the expression was lost on his youngest nephew. Kili hobbled two steps forward and met his uncle's fierce gaze.

"Nonsense." Thorin's tone was grim. "You do not know what you speak of, Kili. You're young, and reckless. This is not a game."

Kili clenched both of his fists. "I love her," he repeated firmly. "And I'll not be parted from her."

He started determinedly for the door. His anger insulated him from any pain he might have felt.

"What will your mother say?" Thorin called.

Kili's stomach clenched and he paused for a second, but he didn't turn around. He took a breath and started for the tent flap again.

"You would give up everything for an Elf? Why? She would not do the same for you."

"She already has," Kili snapped.

He stalked out of the tent as well as he could manage. The wound in his chest was healing well according to the healer's, and Kili was angry enough not to mind the added burn that accompanied each deep breath. He wasn't certain the healers would approve of him exerting himself so much already, but he wasn't of a mind to care.

The battlefield was already largely clear of bodies and debris. Men and Dwarves alike moved over the ground; some carried broken weapons, and when he squinted Kili could just make out the shape of what seemed to be a pile of discarded weapons. Here and there people with water skins and what he guessed were satchels of food traveled from one group of workers to the next to hand out their wares. Kili watched for long moments and noted that there was no division of races or segregation, and that went a long way in easing his anger.

Despite everyone he could see, there was one person in particular that he couldn't. He cast his eyes over the field but found no trace of his redheaded elf.

Kili had known that Tauriel had been returning to the tent every night even before Bilbo had confirmed it. He'd woken once to find her seated in her usual place next to him with her eyes closed; Kili had stared at her until a hint of a smile had tugged at her lips and let him know that she wasn't really asleep. He hadn't woken at all the next night, but he had a hazy memory of her working his fingers carefully out of her hair before leaving. Still, he was thankful for Bilbo's affirmation of what he'd already known to be true. The angry part of Kili thought that he should have mentioned those things just to rub it in his uncle's thrice-damned face.

The young dwarf struck out aimlessly into the open field. The wind was cool and felt good on his face, but it also made him aware that he needed a bath. Sponge bathing was no replacement for the real thing. Kili turned his eyes to the river and wondered how cold the water was, and if he could risk a short dip. Then, quite without warning, his eyes turned upward and focused on the distant figure of Ravenhill. From where he stood the distance to the top appeared almost insurmountable. In truth, Kili had little memory of the actual trip up the treacherous rocks, and no memory at all of the trip down. He remembered the snow, and the ice, and Bolg and his army of Orcs; mostly he remembered Tauriel and the way her voice had echoed off of the stone as she called his name.

Kili remembered the moment he'd found her; the way she'd thrown herself at Bolg; and the moment he'd thought he'd lost her. Waking on that table without her there had terrified Kili in a way that the thought of dying never had – thinking that somehow, by a sick twist of fate, he had lived and she had not … he didn't have the words to express the anguish that he'd felt in that moment. He never wanted to feel that again. No, there was nothing his kin could say that would keep him from Tauriel.

"You should be resting."

The gentle reprimand made him smile brightly and he turned to find that Tauriel had apparently snuck up on him.

"I've had enough resting to last me three lifetimes." He closed the distance between them to stand in front of her.

"You fought with Thorin again."

Kili sighed. "Not exactly."

Tauriel tipped her chin down just so and gave him a wry look. "I heard you, Kili."

"Then you know I didn't fight. I merely … stated facts."

"Facts," she repeated slowly. "It is fact, then, that you love me? Despite what your king and kin will say?"

"What?" Kili asked in surprise. He studied her face closely and then started to smile when he realized why she was asking. He grasped her forearms and tugged on them lightly. "Bend down," he commanded warmly.

Tauriel furrowed her brows in confusion even as she complied. "Why? What are you doing?"

"Wooing you, of course." He grinned roguishly and swallowed her breathy chuckle with a kiss. Kili kissed her with a slow tenderness, cupping her cheek in one hand and sliding the other back and over the tip of her ear until it tangled in her hair. After a minute he pulled back enough to look her in the eye. "I love you, Tauriel. And if you'll have me, I'd not be parted with you for all this wide world has to offer."

"Oi!" Someone behind them practically yelled. "What're ya doin', ya right big pain in the arse?"

Tauriel straightened up, Kili's hands falling away from her face as she did so, and they turned to see Dwalin stalking toward them with a scowl.

"You'll be the only dwarf ever died of their wounds 'cause you were too foolish to stay still."

Kili grinned even as he felt Tauriel shift almost imperceptibly next to him. Even without looking at her he knew that she was moving away from him, putting distance between them, and he reached out quickly to snag one of her hands in his.

"Careful, Mr. Dwalin," Kili teased. "Startin' to sound like an old mother hen."

Dwalin glared at him. His eyes fell to Kili and Tauriel's interlocked hands for a second so short that Tauriel might have missed it if it wasn't the sort of thing she was watching for. There was no hostility in his face when he looked up again, but there was a healthy dose of annoyance.

"Pain in the arse," he said again. "I've come to tell Thorin that the ravens brought word of Dis. She'll be here in three days' time, four at the most." Dwalin looked down at their joined hands and then sighed. "That's a hard road you're looking down, for both of you. I'd not walk it on a whim."

He disappeared before either Kili or Tauriel could offer an answer. Kili watched his travel companion and friend disappear into the healing tent that housed Thorin and considered his words.

"It's not too late for you, Kili," Tauriel said quietly. "They are your people."

Kili's heart lurched. He remembered those words: they were the same ones she'd said to him on that rocky shore before they'd been parted. She'd been resigned to lose him then, as she was now. There was no censure in her tone. He loved her so much for that.

"Aye, and they always will be. But there is only one road for me now, _amrâlimê._ "

Kili tipped his head to the side and looked up into the face he loved. Perhaps he should not have thought her beautiful – certainly the other dwarves did not – but he did. Tauriel was beautiful to him in a way that had nothing to do with her pointed ears and fiery mane: she was beautiful to him in the way that all important things were to those that loved them. Tauriel's beauty was carved into his bones as though he was stone, and she the shape that he'd always been meant to become. He had been made that way, and Mahal had made him, so how could it be wrong? How could _they_ be wrong?

Tauriel squeezed his hand affectionately. "You must return to the tent. The healers will come to check your wounds soon."

"Come with me?" He asked the question as nonchalantly as he could manage, but they both knew that he was asking something infinitely more serious.

Kili had made his stand and now he was asking Tauriel to make hers.

The elleth smiled softly, more of a quirk of her lips than a real smile, and kissed him. "Yes."

There was only one road for her now as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Vi-Violence asked how it is that Dis is arriving so soon, and the answer is ... I have no idea, really. There isn't much of a concrete timeline for this story, and I guess more time had passed in my head than it did in the writing? Yeah, I dunno, the truth is simply that I wanted to add Dis to the story - so I did. Sorry if that throws anyone off or stretches the suspension of disbelief too far. Thank you all for the kind and lovely reviews/comments you've been leaving!

"Are all dwarves so foolish, or is it unique to you?"

Kili grinned and finished pulling his tunic on over his wet head. He turned to find Tauriel standing at the top of the bank with a mildly irritated expression.

He gave his head a vigorous shake and sent water droplets flying. "I smell better."

Tauriel hummed. "Hmm, then perhaps your freezing to death will be worth it."

"It's not so cold as that. Even had Bilbo steal clean clothes for me. S'handy, having a burglar around."

The elleth shook her head and navigated her way down the bank and to his side. She eyed a large rock near him and seated herself.

"You are a prince of Erebor, Kili. The mountain is yours once more. You cannot steal what rightfully belongs to you," Tauriel said dryly.

"The mountain is Thorin's, and Fili's after him. I do not want it."

Kili had pulled on his boots and now stood to belt his tunic closed at the waist. When he was done he stepped over to Tauriel, who opened her knees enough for him to step between them. He smiled before leaning in to catch her lips with his.

"Your lips are cold," Tauriel told him when at last they broke apart. "Your hair will freeze if you stay out here much longer."

"It will not," Kili protested. "It's mid-day, Tauriel, honestly. You must not worry so."

"You must not give me reason to."

She drew him in for another kiss and Kili felt one of her graceful hands press ever so gently into the area of his clothes that covered his wound. The action would have been easy to miss if he didn't understand that it was a sign of the real fear that Tauriel still carried with her. Kili didn't know what he would do if their roles were reversed and it had been him to watch as she was run through with an Orcish blade.

The day that he had woken in the healing tent and realized that he was still alive had been a hard one for Kili. He'd been confused at first, and then terrified when he remembered Fili's body falling to the ground at his feet. Balin had had his hands full trying to calm Kili down long enough to assure him that Fili and Thorin were clinging to life, and that fear had only abated long enough to give rise to another: what had happened to Tauriel?

Her reaction to seeing him awake had been visceral. Kili had never seen an emotional Elf before – outside of the snide anger that Thranduil and his pretty son had shown them – and had been astounded by the force behind the one sob that Tauriel had let out. He didn't know if it had affected him so strongly because of that, or because it was coming from Tauriel, but watching her flee the tent had been agony for Kili. That moment had been all the proof the young dwarf needed that what he felt for the Elf was real, and reciprocated.

When his kin had vacated the tent, Kili had asked Balin for the details: how had he survived; how was he in a healing tent when the last thing he remembered was being on Ravenhill; how, how, how. The answer was that Balin didn't know, and neither did the rest of the Company. Balin and the other dwarves knew only that they'd found Tauriel bent over his body and weeping silently as she clutched his hand. The memory had made Balin cry.

Kili traced the line of her jaw and pushed those thoughts away. He kissed her like the world was ending, because it had already done so once and somehow they were still together. He delighted in the smoothness of her beardless chin and then traced the points of her ears before sifting his fingers into her hair.

Kili was the one to pull away. He leaned his forehead against hers and willed the burn in his chest to go away as he took shallow breaths.

"Your mother's caravan arrives," Tauriel whispered into the space between their mouths.

His heart leapt but he did not pull away. "Will you come with me to greet her?"

She sighed and raised her head. Green eyes studied him. "No. This is a time for family, Kili. It is not my place."

"It is," Kili insisted. "It should be."

"And perhaps it will be, in time. But not yet."

"Kili!"

They both glanced up just in time to see Bilbo's blonde curls pop up on the bank above them.

"Dis has arrived!" the hobbit cried.

Kili turned back to Tauriel. His joy at the arrival of his mother shone clearly in his eyes and she smiled for seeing his happiness.

"Will you come tonight?"

"Tomorrow." She sighed when his face fell at her answer. "It is not my wish, Kili, but it is right. I will come in the morning."

"But where will you sleep?" he protested.

Not far off the clatter of wagon wheels and hooves came to a stop. Many voices pierced the air as they called out greetings and questions for the new arrivals. Tauriel moved away from him carefully and stood, the long strands of her hair falling through his fingers as she did so.

"Go now. Your mother will be impatient to see you."

Kili did so, but as he picked his way slowly up the embankment the joy and excitement he felt at knowing that he was about to see his mother again after so long – after he had thought that he'd never do so again – was tempered by the knowledge that Tauriel was not with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Tauriel stared up into the sky and wondered when her life had become so complicated.

Kili had declared himself to her. Did he understand the gravity of what he was offering to do for her? Had he acknowledged the fact that his life was about to boil down to one choice? Thorin had made his hatred for her kind obvious, and though Tauriel counted a good many of the dwarves in Kili's company as friends, that did not mean that they would accept her as their youngest prince's paramour. Even if they did, what of the other dwarves that would surely flock to the Lonely Mountain now that it had been reclaimed? What of those dwarves who knew nothing of her, and saw nothing past her pointed ears and Elven blood?

Kili might not have wanted the throne, but certainly he wanted his family. Tauriel knew of Kili's deep-seated attachment to his brother and, though it seemed somehow tainted at the moment, his love of his uncle and desire for his approval. She had left no kin in Mirkwood and still her exile from her home had seriously wounded her. What would exile do to Kili, if he had to suffer the same fate?

Tauriel had been asking herself those questions and more since she sent Kili to his mother. She had watched the inky blackness of the night sky fade into the dusky charcoal of predawn; now, even that had given way to the long fingers of pale reds and oranges that heralded the sunrise. Morning had come and though she had promised Kili that she would go to him, she did not move.

"Hello."

Tauriel pulled her gaze from the now bright sky and fixed it on the man standing not far from her. He wore a gray robe and leaned on a tall staff; blue eyes studied her beneath the brim of a tall hat. She recognized the wizard from the only other time she had seen him, in the moments before learning that Kili's life was in danger atop Ravenhill.

" _Mae govannen_ ," Tauriel returned softly.

"I don't believe I've had a chance to introduce myself. I am Gandalf the Gray."

"I am Tauriel, Captain -." She stopped abruptly when she realized her blunder. Sorrow stabbed at her heart before she could push it away.

Gandalf gave no indication that he had noticed her blunder. He maneuvered himself closer to her and waved a hand at her when she would have stood to meet him. Tauriel was surprised when the wizard lowered himself to the ground next to her.

The elleth was not good at making small talk. Tauriel had no idea what to say to this wizard and her thoughts kept trying to circle back to Kili, and so she said nothing. Gandalf didn't venture to fill the silence either. He sat quietly beside the young elf and drew his pipe out from the folds of his cloak.

They sat together in silence for some time, until at last Gandalf spoke. "The Men of Dale speak highly of you."

Tauriel cut her eyes at him in surprise. Gandalf didn't smile, but he raised his eyebrows at her over his pipe as he exhaled a puff of smoke in the shape of a ring.

"Their praise is unwarranted," she said quietly.

"They do not think so."

"Bard would like to offer you a place in the city." Gandalf's tone was almost uninterested as he delivered the news. He kept his eyes focused on the smoke rings he was blowing and ignored the shocked way that Tauriel was looking at him. "I encountered him on my walk this morning and advised that he wait."

"Why?" Tauriel asked after a minute.

"You have another decision to make first, I think."

The elf sighed so quietly the sound was nearly imperceptible. She turned her eyes back to the early morning sky and tried to think of nothing. The attempt failed miserably as the world woke around her and people began to move out of their tents or away from their low burning fires. The activity was a knife that prodded at her indecision. Morning had come and Kili was waiting for her.

"It is impossible." The words fell from her mouth like stones. Their weight dragged at her heart.

Tauriel was unprepared for the kind smile that Gandalf directed at her.

"There is nothing more worth doing than the impossible. Though you might be surprised to find that you have friends in unlikely places."

Tauriel studied the wizard. He had said nothing that would give away that he had more than a passing understanding of what she was referring to, and yet she knew that he did. Gandalf knew exactly what decision she was wrestling with. How he knew such a thing was another matter, but one she was not overly concerned with.

She had not gone far from the healing tent that housed Kili. All it took was a redirection of her gaze to bring the expanse of white into her vision, and Tauriel called to mind the details that were hidden by the cloth: the low mending tables, and the three dwarves that rested on them. A part of her still didn't understand how they lived when by all rights they should have died on that mountain.

Kili had almost died. He would die, eventually, as Thranduil had so coldly reminded her. The prince of Erebor's days were numbered and there was nothing she could do about that; all she could do was decide how many of those days they would spend together.

"If you will excuse me, Gandalf," Tauriel said rather suddenly. She swept easily to her feet and had already started for Kili's tent when the wizard muttered a quick "yes, yes, of course," behind her.

As much as the loss of her home pained her, Tauriel had left Mirkwood because it was the right thing to do. Chasing and killing those orcs had been a good decision, and one that saved the lives of not only several dwarves, but the lives of Bard's children. Saving Kili's life had been right as well, though the righteousness of it had not been her only motivation for doing so; threatening her king had been wrong, perhaps, but her anger at his desertion had not. Going to Kili now and standing with him, being with him, was not only right – it was what she wanted.

Tauriel didn't recognize the guard posted outside the tent, but he didn't challenge her. She slipped quietly into the tent and offered Fili a small nod when he raised his head to see who had entered. Thorin was snoring loudly on the table next to him. There was another dwarf on the ground near Fili's mending table, but they were curled under thick furs and mostly hidden. Tauriel was willing to bet it was their mother.

Kili was still asleep when she arrived at his side. The elleth took up her spot next to him and tried not to smile when he hummed softly in his sleep and turned his face toward her. Tauriel made sure she was seated close enough that he could reach her hair when he woke, as he seemed wont to do, and then closed her eyes to wait.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the delay. I no longer have a bunch of finished chapters saved up, so I'm officially writing this as I go. The new college semester has started so I have less free time. I'm not giving this story up or anything, but it might be a few days between chapters from here on out. Sorry about that and I hope you stick with me. Thank you for your support of this work, it means a lot to me.

The first thing Kili set eyes on when he woke was an unnervingly still Elf. He blinked blearily and then smiled as the fine lines of her face became clearer and more defined. Kili studied her features for a long, quiet moment; he wanted to say something, but he also wanted to keep this small moment of peace between them and was afraid that speaking would wake the others.

This was what the second son of Erebor wanted from his life: private moments of peace with his love, and his kin nearby. Retaking Erebor had been a matter of pride and family honor, a task undertaken for the sake of his uncle and brother, but Kili didn't want the mountain or the crown. Home had always been an abstract concept for him – something to be found wherever his family happened to lay their heads. He was a dwarf, and as such the mountains and stones would always call to him, but Kili enjoyed travel. He enjoyed the varying landscapes and the thrill of the hunt, as well as the open skies and smell of a campfire. Could he have all of those things?

Could Kili have his family, and the she-elf that had defied all orders and expectations to save his life – to love him? And if he could not, what then?

The dwarf pushed those thoughts aside. Of course he could have all of those things: the mountain and the open sky, the stone and the river, his family and Tauriel. He could have all of those things if only he was brave enough to try, and strong enough to fight for them.

Kili shifted and reached out one hand to drag the tips of his fingers over her cheekbones. Tauriel cracked open the eye closest to him in response.

"You're here," he whispered.

"I am."

Kili traced a wide outline of the score on her cheek that she had earned during the battle. He was careful not to venture too close to the healing skin.

"You were there, too. On Ravenhill." The name was like a dark spot in his mind, full of visions of Fili's body falling through the air, and Bolg, and blades. "You came for me. Why?"

Tauriel did not answer immediately. Elves were notoriously stoic, but her youth – or perhaps the ties that bound them together – made her easier for Kili to read. He saw the indecision in her face, and the nervousness; the same disbelief that she had leveled at him on that lakeshore when he'd asked her to come with them to the mountain; the same hopeful, terrified sort of surprise that had lit up her face when he'd called her amrâlimê for the first time.

"Because you needed saving," she said finally.

The words were both a truth and a joke, and Kili smiled.

Tauriel smiled a little and then sighed. "Kili …"

"Don't," he interrupted.

She ignored him and continued. "I will not make you choose, Kili. I will not see you separated from all that you love."

He no longer cared about the peace. He didn't care who was awake or asleep, or who might be listening; Kili heaved himself into a seated position on the mending table and then turned to face Tauriel and let his legs hang over the side.

"Then you must not leave, Tauriel. I cannot undo what has been done, and would not choose to besides. Why must there be a choice? Why can I not have you and my kin? The world is large and full of wonders, why can there not be room for us?"

Seated as they were, Kili was an inch or two taller than Tauriel. He leaned forward and reached for one of her hands, the long, slender fingers warm as he curled it in one of his own. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it suddenly; all at once the open, sweet expression that had stolen over her face disappeared. Tauriel did not pull her hand away from him, but her face transformed into a mask of perfect stoicism. Kili knew immediately that their moment of peace was over.

Kili looked over his shoulder. He was surprised to see that Fili was awake and that his gaze was fixed on the ceiling. Surely Fili hadn't been the one to bring about such a change in the elf?

Then the young dwarf's eyes fell on the bundle on the ground at the end of Fili's makeshift bed. His mother's clear blue eyes were studying him.

Dis pushed herself up into a seated position, the thick fur that she had been wrapped in falling down to pool around her waist. She smiled gently at her youngest son and then turned her eyes to the elf beside him.

"Red hair," she mused to herself. Then, "I'm told I have you to thank for the life of my youngest."

The sound of his sister's voice woke Thorin with a start. "Dis?" he called.

"Rest easy, brother mine. M'here."

"Bilbo?" Thorin slowly brought a hand up to rub at his eyes and then started to move like he was going to sit up. "Has our burglar been here?"

Dis rose and pushed gently on her brother's shoulder to arrest his movement. "The hobbit is not here," she said. "Shall I send for him?"

"Yes, yes. Do send for him, sister."

Dis excused herself to step out of the tent for just a moment. In that span of time, Thorin turned his head to get a look at his nephews. Tauriel had not stood until that moment, when Kili chose to lower himself gingerly to his feet. The motion jarred his wounds unpleasantly, but the pain was less than it had been any time before and he couldn't resist grinning and giving Tauriel a conspiratorial wink. The elf rolled her eyes to hide the smile that threatened to bubble over and stood; Thorin's eyes focused in on her immediately.

"You toy with my nephew, Elf," Thorin grumbled acidly. "You play at that which you do not understand."

"I toy with no one, Thorin Oakenshield," Tauriel snapped. She was aware of Dis stepping back in to the tent. "Least of all Kili."

"I'll not give you my blessing. You will be the ruin of him, and for what?"

Tauriel felt the familiar cold burn of anger as it danced down her spine. She clenched one of her hands into a tight fist and ached to hold her bow; better that it was lost to her, perhaps, or she might have been driven to a repeat of the scene with King Thranduil.

"For love." Tauriel's tone was quiet and dark as a grave. "For the same loyalty and strength of heart that he has shown you. You, who left him to die in a town of strangers for the sake of a mountain of gold."

Someone drew in a sharp breath, or maybe it was the collective breath of all the dwarves simultaneously. Tauriel did not take her eyes from Thorin, who had heaved himself up into a more upright position. She thought of Kili's face as it had been in Laketown: pale and sweaty with red lined eyes that did not see. The King under the Mountain had left his nephew to die so that he could pursue his selfish goal with impunity. Kili had survived only because she had saved him.

Then Thorin and his company had unleashed a dragon on them. He was no better than Thranduil.

"I care not for your blessing," she told him coldly. "Your insults are wasted on me. I have taken your measure, Thorin Oakenshield, and found you wanting."

"Tauriel." Kili's voice was tight – angry? – and he slipped a hand around her wrist.

His touch did not dissipate her anger, but it did lessen it. Tauriel made herself look away from the injured king and down into the bright eyes of the dwarf next to her. She had not meant to hurt Kili with her words, but neither would she apologize for them. She didn't like Thorin and wasn't certain she could find it in her to forgive him for abandoning his nephew while he lingered at death's door.

Tauriel took a breath and then forced the anger aside. She schooled her face into the blandest expression she could manage and pressed her lips together until they felt almost bloodless.

Kili was angry, but not with her. He dropped his shoulders and straightened his spine. With a glance at first Fili, who looked conflicted and uncomfortable, and his mother, whose expression he could not read, Kili focused on his uncle and king.

"I will have no other, uncle."

"And if I make you choose?" Thorin asked the question softly, and though the words were dark there was no real weight behind them.

"Then I will box your ears and shave you from the shoulders up," Dis barked suddenly.

All eyes turned to the dwarrowdam as she strode further into the room and went to stand between the clearly drawn battle lines.

"Fire and forge," she swore. She braced both hands on her hips. "Stubborn as stone, both of you. You'll not win this fight, brother mine, and you're wrong to try. If you keep going this way you'll only succeed in losing a nephew."

Thorin was thunderstruck. Next to him, Fili was staring at his mother with wide eyes. Kili's hand tightened painfully around Tauriel's wrist until she shook it gently and made him release her.

"Mam?"

Dis sighed heavily and turned her attention to her youngest son. "I'll not pretend to understand, Kili. But I know that look and I'll not have you choosing between your kin and your heart. And you could do worse than a lass who defends you so warmly against your king and uncle, even if she is an Elf."

"Dis," Thorin started to say.

Bilbo stepped into the tent then. Dis looked at him for half a second before turning her attention back to her wounded sibling.

"The Elf …"

"Tauriel," Kili interrupted sharply. "Her name is Tauriel."

Dis nodded at Tauriel in apology and corrected herself. "Tauriel was right, brother mine. My boys rallied to your call when few others dared. They followed you through Mahal knows what – and don't think I've forgotten about the 'left to die' comment, either – and the lot of you are lucky to be drawing breath as it is. Surely the least you can do to repay such loyalty is leave your nephew and his love in peace."

Bilbo slipped into the space near Thorin's head on his near silent feet. The King under the Mountain looked to his burglar and then at his assembled family members before gravitating back to Bilbo.

"She's right, Thorin," Bilbo said quietly. "She's not asking you to like it. Just to quit being such a …"

"Goblin," Kili supplied helpfully when it looked like Bilbo couldn't find a word to fit.

"Cave troll," Fili added. He shot his brother and Tauriel a grin.

"And I suppose you're against me in this as well?" Thorin queried.

Fili shrugged. "Tauriel did chastise you something fierce." He winked at the elf. "And she saved Kili's life. If you ask me, we should count ourselves lucky that all she wants as reward is a reckless dwarf child."

"Hey!" Kili objected loudly. He glared and took a step toward his brother, who waggled his eyebrows at him.

The rustle of material heralded the arrival of another guest seconds before the gray peak of Gandalf's hat appeared, followed closely by the wizard himself. He had ducked to step through the entryway and now righted himself again. He smiled benignly at those assembled inside.

"Ah, good morning." Gandalf studied their faces and then asked innocuously, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

The only answer was Thorin's low groan of tired irritation and defeat.

Gandalf caught Tauriel's eye and blinked one eye slowly in an approximation of a wink. The elleth almost allowed herself to smile in response.

No one had told her that wizards had a talent for meddling.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and that you're having a good weekend!

"You're not so bad, for a trouble making leaf-eater."

Tauriel arched an eyebrow and turned her head to look over her shoulder. Fili was grinning and slowly making his way toward her.

"You stink," she remarked dryly.

"Stink?" Fili cried in mock outrage. "I'll have you know that I've been working on this particular scent for … wait, how long has it been?"

"A fortnight," Tauriel supplied.

"A fortnight!" Fili repeated proudly.

Tauriel kept her expression neutral as she stared at him. The blonde prince only smiled wider. He had pulled even with her by then, and he stopped to survey the now clear battlefield. The grass was dead and the ground well trampled – here and there Fili could make out the heavy imprint of an Orc foot – but there was little else to suggest that a battle had been fought there recently. There were no dead bodies (friend or foe) and no discarded weapons. The stretch of land between Erebor and Dale looked exactly as it had when he, Kili, Bofur and Oin had traversed it to join their uncle.

Despite the lack of physical evidence in the landscape, Fili knew that there was plenty of damage elsewhere. Not just on bodies, but on minds as well. The heir apparent knew that like many others, he and his family would heal outwardly before they did so inwardly – especially in Thorin's case.

So much had been lost. Fili privately thought that it far outweighed what they had gained. What was a mountain full of gold, if the price for obtaining it was the happiness and respect – and even the very lives – of those closest to him? He would rather have the Company, who was undoubtedly his family, than the crown of every kingdom in the world. Standing quietly in the midday sun with the Lonely Mountain to one side and a decrepit Dale to the other, Fili was struck by how close they had all come to losing everything.

Fili eyed the she-elf next to him then. She was not a part of the company, and yet … Tauriel had proven herself to be a creature of worth. The elf was a capable archer and warrior, but it was more than that: she had integrity, and courage, and a will so strong that he might mistake it for dwarven stubbornness. Had she been a dwarf, Fili knew that his uncle would have had nearly no objections to her, or Kili's obvious preference for her.

"What will you do?" Fili asked quietly.

Tauriel didn't look at him as she answered. "Bard has asked me to stay on in Dale. I will help with the rebuilding effort, I think. I might even teach the healers about the flora and fauna that grows here."

The blonde prince held a hand up to shade his eyes and cast his gaze across the field and onto the Lonely Mountain. The distance was manageable, and certainly better than the distance that separated the mountain and Mirkwood, but Fili knew his brother well enough to know that even that short distance between him and his love would chafe.

"And you'll stay on, after?" Fili looked at her fully for the first time since joining her. He did not see the beauty in her that Kili did, but he would grant that there was something striking about her. Her hair was a marvel, at the least, as long and fiery as it was.

"I'll not disappear into the twilight, if that is what you're asking. I will help the people of Dale through the winter as best I can, and encourage your brother to give up his habit of needing rescue."

Fili grinned and then chuckled breathily. The movement made his ribs and chest ache. The sensation was yet another reminder of how lucky he was to be having this conversation, or any.

"Beyond that, I cannot say." Tauriel had been facing straight ahead, but here she paused in her speech and turned to face the dwarf. "I have defied my king and forsaken my home and the company of my kin, Fili. Surely you do not think I would abandon your brother now?"

Fili did not quail under the directness of her gaze. "Abandon, no. But I do think that you would leave if you thought it was in his best interest."

The elf narrowed her eyes at him. "And are you asking me to go, or telling me to?"

Her expression was blank and serene, but the threatening undercurrent in her tone left Fili in no doubt about her opinion on such a request.

"Neither," Fili answered congenially. "Quite the opposite, actually. I only wish to tell you that Kili does not form attachments lightly. You should know that if you stay now, it's likely there will never again be a time when your absence would not injure him deeply. Keep that in mind if you start to wonder whether he'd be better off without you, yeah?"

"Oi! Been lookin' for you lot half the morning!"

Kili was grinning as he joined them on the small knoll that they occupied. He smacked Fili on the arm, but he kept the contact softer than usual.

"You stink, brother." Kili sounded downright gleeful as he repeated Tauriel's earlier words.

Tauriel leveled a pointed glare at Fili as if to say 'I told you so'. Fili glared back.

"Don't fancy a dip in that freezing river," the blonde dwarf groused.

"It's not so cold as that," Kili quipped happily. "But you might not have to find out. Oin was just at the tent, and he and the other healers have cleared the lot of us for light exercise. Well, they were hesitant about Thorin at first, but he growled at them until they relented. We're to return to the mountain this night."

Kili's obvious enthusiasm tapered off considerably at the end of his statement. He had not moved from Fili's side, but his blue eyes sought and found Tauriel's green ones. She didn't look disturbed by the news. Of course, they had all anticipated that such a thing would happen eventually. Erebor was their home once again, and most of them couldn't wait to return to the caverns beneath the mountain and begin restoring their kingdom. Kili was torn over it, however. He'd honestly forgotten about such an eventuality in the face of the joy of Tauriel's presence, and the exhausting fight that Thorin had presented over it.

Now that the obstacle of his uncle seemed to be behind them, another one had risen up in its place. The moment had come for Kili to return to Erebor with his kin – and without Tauriel.

"Right," Fili said abruptly. He was trying hard not to be uncomfortable. "I'm gonna go. Over there."

Kili paid his brother's sorry excuse and departure no mind. He stepped into the spot by Tauriel's side that Fili had vacated. She watched him wordlessly, and he hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to grasp one of her hands. The contact soothed his suddenly unsettled nerves.

"I don't want to return to the mountain without you," Kili admitted.

The blandness disappeared swiftly from Tauriel's face, and was replaced by one much more tender. The lines around her mouth and eyes softened visibly and she squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"You must. It is one thing for us to be seen in company out here, but I do not think your fellows would welcome my presence in your mountain. Not at present. Maybe, if we give them time to adjust – though I do not know how I would take to a life beneath the stone."

"And where will you be, then?"

"Here, in Dale. Bard has asked me to stay and I've agreed. I will assist in the effort to rebuild, and help the people through the winter."

Kili nodded. The situation was the next best thing to having her with him, he knew, and yet it offered him little satisfaction. He took another step forward and further into Tauriel's personal space, but she did not retreat. With as much tenderness as he could put into the action, he brought their hands to his face so that he could press a kiss to her knuckles.

Kili should be pleased to know that Tauriel would be so close, but he wasn't. Already it filled him with a bittersweet sort of agony to think that she would be virtually outside his door and yet so far out of sight. Still, it was an improvement on their previous situations; their exchanges didn't have to take place around the bars of a cell, or through a haze of panic and poison.

The youngest son of Dis soon rallied. The afternoon was early, and he did not have to join his family in Erebor for many hours yet.

"Walk with me?"

Tauriel gave him a small smile. She recognized the stall tactic for what it was, but did not call him on it. As unreasonable as it might have been, the elf found that she did not want to rush their goodbye anymore than Kili appeared to.

"And where are we off to?" she teased.

"Wherever our feet lead us, I suppose."

So, hand in hand they struck off into the sunlight.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought that I uploaded this forever ago and only today realized that I didn't. I'm so sorry!

No sooner had the line of Durin returned to the kingdom beneath the mountain and the last healing tent been cleared from the battlefield then the first breath of winter gusted over the land.

Bard had given her leave to pick her own lodgings. The people of Laketown had spread out through the remains of the buildings of Dale to claim their new home sites, and Bard had encouraged Tauriel to do the same. The elf had chosen her quarters with a mind for tactical advantages: the building had three stories, the uppermost of which had a balcony that offered a view of both ends of Dale and the gates of Erebor in the distance. Her new abode was in disrepair, as was its fellows, and Tauriel had a hunch that the bottom floor had been some sort of shop or other area open to the public. The windows had been shattered and their pieces still littered the floor.

The elleth was awake the night it snowed. She was seated against the wall across from the broken windows and contemplating what to do for a bow when a zephyr whistled its way into the room. Fat, downy flakes of snow followed.

Tauriel sat unmoving and watched as they gathered on the floor inside the window. She had never seen a proper snowstorm before, where the weather wasn't hindered or slowed by the close-knit branches of Mirkwood. Even when the leaves froze and fell off the treetops, the snow never managed to do more than dust the forest floor.

With that in mind, Tauriel pulled herself to her feet and stepped out onto the balcony. The snow was falling silent and quick, and it was just pale enough to stand out in the darkness of deep night. She turned her face to the starless sky and felt the flakes settle on her cheekbones and the tip of her nose. They were cold and sharp, but not uncomfortable. In fact, Tauriel enjoyed the sensation.

By the time the sun had risen and the new inhabitants of the old city had stirred one thing had become clear to the young elf: though her people were not easily affected by the weather, it appeared that the Men were.

Tauriel had been concerned that first day; by the time a week had passed, her concern had morphed into full-fledged worry. The snow had let up only marginally, and the people of the city were not equipped for such weather. Few of them had made it out of Laketown with more than a change of clothes and what supplies they had had already been divvied up between them. Still, everywhere she looked Tauriel saw people ill equipped to fend off the cold and wet. What blankets had been found, scrounged, or retrieved had been given to the very old and very young.

When it was clear that the storm was intent to linger over the valley, Bard urged his people to congregate in the City Hall. The building was big enough to house them all, albeit rather snugly, and some of the windows had managed to remain intact. A few enterprising people took it upon themselves to build a few fires under the open windows, where the ventilation would keep the air free of smoke, and Bard set up a shift rotation to ensure that they burned through the night.

The Bowman sought Tauriel out as soon as those tasks were complete. She was standing inside the main doors of the hall and surveying the grim situation when he approached. Bard was always serious, but now there was a line of tension across his shoulders and his brows were drawn down into a grimace.

"If you continue to scowl in such a way you will frighten your people," Tauriel informed him softly.

"They are already frightened," Bard answered. He stood close and kept his voice quiet anyway. "And with reason. We will soon freeze if we continue this way. The Elven king gifted us with bolts of fine cloth, but our women have not had time to craft anything of use."

"How can I be of use?" Tauriel offered immediately. "I am a respectable seamstress, but I cannot sew any faster than your women."

"We need wood," Bard told her. "And some way to transport large quantities of it, for a start."

Tauriel had barely set to working out how they could manage to do such a thing when a strange mixture of sounds reached her ears: the crunch of snow and creak of wood, punctuated by staggered breathing.

The elleth's hands had closed over the hilts of her daggers and she had spun to face the door, but she'd only taken a single step when a man scrambled up the front steps and burst into the hall.

"Dwarves!" the man cried. "The dwarves have come!"

Tauriel veritably sprung through the doorway and out into the snow. Bard was close on her heels, but she paid him no heed. Beneath her worry over the situation that the people of Dale were facing was another, more private one: she had not seen Kili since he and his kin had returned to the mountain nine days ago.

At the bottom of the stairs she swung her head left and toward the mountain, where the sounds were coming from. What she saw wasn't immediately recognizable: a long wooden cart with something large and made of iron or some similar metal secured to it with thick chains. Tauriel paid little attention to whatever was on the cart when she realized that dwarves were indeed pushing it through the snow, and that one of those dwarves was none other than Kili.

Tauriel moved swiftly down the street and toward the newcomers. She was curious about the contraption the dwarves had brought and eager to help, but more than that she was suddenly anxious to see Kili again.

There were three dwarves on either side of the cart and one in the rear. On the sides, each dwarf was pushing against a wooden pole that stuck out from the side of cart and ensured that they weren't overrun by the wheels; the two dwarves in front appeared to be in charge of navigating. Kili was one of those dwarves, and so saw her approach. The young prince grinned happily at her.

"Hello," Kili chirruped.

Tauriel wasn't given time to answer. At Kili's greeting, the dwarf on the other side of the cart – who turned out to be Fili – spoke up.

"Where d'ya want this thing?" Fili huffed.

"Depends on what 'this thing' is," Bard answered from behind Tauriel.

"It's a forge," Kili supplied proudly. "Well, a miniature one, anyway."

The dwarves stopped pushing in silent agreement and the cart stopped moving immediately. When the dwarves behind the princes straightened up the only ones Tauriel recognized were Dwalin and Gloin.

"We've little in the way of blankets, but we brought as many of the heavier cloaks that we could find still fit for use. They might only fit some of the smaller women and children, but if you can find thread to spare you might sew them together."

"And the forge?" Bard queried. He was at a loss for what use the dwarves intended such a thing to find outside a smithy.

Tauriel was the one to answer. She was unable to keep the smile from her face as she realized what Kili and his kin had done, and just what life saving aid they had so generously delivered. "We can use the forge to heat the hall," Tauriel said. She glanced at Bard over her shoulder. "The fire will burn hotter than that of a campfire."

Kili was positively beaming at her when she turned her attention on him once more. Tauriel could have kissed him in that moment, and might have if not for the presence of the unknown dwarves.

"How are we to light this miniature forge, and keep the fire burning?" Bard, ever the pragmatist, asked.

"'S'full of coal," Gloin puffed. "If ya regulate it well it should burn a few days straight."

"And we can set up some sort of relay to bring more down from the mountain every few days," Fili added.

Bard was stunned and overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you. Truly, you have saved our lives."

"Thank Kili," Dwalin said gruffly. "Lad wouldn't sleep until he'd figured out a way to make sure you lot didn't freeze. Come on then, let's get outta the snow. Never much cared for snow."

Tauriel moved immediately to Kili's side. He stepped closer to the cart so that she had room to push on the wooden bar. When Bard had joined Fili the blonde prince called out a ready up command and then counted to three. As one, the now ragtag group of people resumed pushing the cart and forge through the snow.

They were nearly to the bottom of the stairs that led into the City Hall when a steady stream of Men swept out to meet them. They took up posts wherever they could fit until every empty spot was filled, and then proceeded to shove the cart up the stairs and into the Hall.

Kili waited until his brother and companions had engaged Bard in what was basically a demonstration of how to get the forge up and running and how best to tend it before he slipped a hand into Tauriel's and pulled her off into an alcove. He was hardly through a teasing rendition of "did you miss me?" when she kissed him soundly.

"You have saved many lives this day, _meleth nin_ ," Tauriel told him when she had pulled away. "But I was starting to worry that you might need saving again."

Kili was too busy staring at her to make a timely reply. When he did at last find his voice again what he said was, "Say that again."

Tauriel smiled slowly, and it was a small, private sort of pulling back of her lips that filled Kili with a warmth that he had never experienced outside of her presence.

" _Meleth nin_ ," Tauriel repeated. Her tone was nearly musical. Then she asked, "How long can you stay?"

"Oh, the night," Kili answered brightly. "Just to make sure you lot don't set yourselves on fire, of course."

Tauriel tried to hide her conspiratorial smirk. "Of course," she agreed.

Fili chose that moment to appear at her elbow. "She's not even frozen!" he exclaimed in mock exasperation as he motioned at Tauriel. "All those nights you kept me up worrying that she'd be an elf icicle, and she's fine! I demand recompense, brother."

"You can't do that!" Kili protested. "I'm family!"

Fili smiled smugly. "Precisely!"

Tauriel could tell by the way they were looking at each other that the brothers were about to launch into one of their usual arguments and decided to cut them off before they could.

"Am I safe in assuming that the both of you are well recovered?" Tauriel glanced from one dwarf prince to the other. "I cannot imagine your kin agreeing to let either of you push a cart through the snow if you were not."

"Oh!" Kili started.

"Clean bill of health," Fili interjected with a pat to his chest. "Got quite the scar for a souvenir, but that's all."

"Bit of a twinge, now and then," Kili added. "Oin said even that'll be gone soon."

"Tauriel? Do …" Sigrid stepped around the corner and cut herself off mid-sentence when she discovered that the elleth was not alone. She smiled when she realized that Fili and Kili stood in front of her. "Hello. Forgive my interruption."

"Hello," Fili and Kili answered in unison.

"How can I help you, Sigrid?" Tauriel prompted.

The elf was inclined to think that the young woman had been staring at Fili a moment or two longer than was strictly necessary, but if the blonde dwarf noticed he gave no indication.

"Oh, it's nothing really," Sigrid said demurely. "Only I was going to ask if you were going to spend the night in the hall with the rest of us and wanted a spot made up for you."

"No, thank you." Tauriel nodded her head once in respect and gratitude for the offer. "But perhaps you could have one made up for Prince Kili?"

Sigrid glanced at the dark haired dwarf in some surprise, and then to his fair-haired brother. "You are staying the night?"

"'Fraid not," Fili replied quickly. "I have to get back to the mountain while my younger brother stays here and has all the fun."

Kili had no chance to respond to his brother's statement because suddenly Fili was drawing Sigrid away and out into the main part of the hall. They could be heard lamenting their lot as eldest children as they went; Fili didn't cast so much as a glance back at his brother and Tauriel.

"Who d'you think'll be more angry should something come of that –Thorin, or Bard?" Kili quipped with a grin.

Beside him, Tauriel made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat. "Perhaps it is only a friendly conversation. There is a rather sizeable difference in their ages, after all."

Kili turned his head to look at the elf so quickly that he could practically hear his neck snap. He didn't know if he was more indignant or hurt. Fili and Sigrid were literally hundreds of years closer in age than Kili and Tauriel were; if she thought so of their age gap, what must she think of the one that existed between her and Kili? Was she trying to tell him something?

Only, when Kili fixed his eyes on the redhead next to him he found that one corner of her mouth had turned up in a sly sort of half-grin. She was teasing him! Kili laughed, partly at her jest and partly in relief, and snatched one of her slender hands with one of his heavier ones.

"Yes," he agreed lightly, "a sizeable difference indeed."


	11. Chapter 11

Hours after his kin had left and he'd insisted on helping to hand out a meager meal to the Men now ensconced in the old City Hall, Kili slipped out of the building to find his elf maiden. He'd seen her leave earlier, and before anyone could offer her food, so he was mildly surprised to see that Tauriel hadn't gone far. She stood like a sentinel in the middle of the lane that passed between buildings; her back was to him and the burnished copper of her hair was a stark contrast against the white of the snow. Though the trees of her homeland weren't visible from where they stood, Kili suspected that her gaze was turned in the direction of Mirkwood. The dwarf prince's heart ached to think of what Tauriel had given up, and all that she had received in return: the threat of starvation and freezing to death in the night. Worse than that, even, was the knowledge that he had played a part in reducing her to such circumstances.

Kili had been raised knowing that Erebor was his birthright, as it was his brother's and his uncle's as well. He had been taught that the mountain that now stood not far off was theirs even though it had been lost to them, and yet it was a loss that Kili had never felt. Not truly. Erebor was home in words only and had been little more than a pipe dream in the back of his mind for most of his life. Even now it did not feel like home to him. Tauriel, though … Tauriel had lived all of her long years within the borders of Mirkwood. She had known nothing of the world beyond her trees, and now she was being forced to live in it.

There were not many things in the world that Kili would be willing to give up his chance for a future with Tauriel for, but looking at her now as she stood so silent and resolute amidst the half-ruined buildings of a decaying city of Men, he knew that her happiness was one of them; perhaps the only one, really.

The price for Erebor had been so high, and paid by so many people … Thorin would sneer at him and scorn him, but Kili wasn't convinced that it was worth it.

Kili barely heard the crunch of his boots over the snow as he approached her. The dark swirl of his thoughts weighed on him. He loved Tauriel and he had cost her everything; saving his life had taken her from her home and all of her kin, forever. And forever meant something very different to those races who actually stood to live that long.

"What has happened to make you scowl so?" Tauriel murmured softly.

Night had begun to fall some minutes ago and Kili had been glaring down at the snow, and so it took his eyes a few seconds to find and trace the lines of her face. Such a strange face in the eyes of his people, and yet he loved it so.

"I have ruined your life."

Tauriel's eyes widened in shock and no small amount of consternation. She might have laughed if Kili's face hadn't been so drawn and unhappy, his gaze dark and heavy on her face. There was no humor in his words.

Kili missed her look of shock and continued on. "I have doomed you to an eternity without your kin and away from your home. And there's nothing I can do about it, either, I can't replace what you've lost. You've saved my life time and again, and it's all I can do to make sure you don't freeze to death."

By this time the dwarf had driven himself to quite the state of agitation. He paced a line out into the snow in front of Tauriel and then stopped to draw in several deep breaths before turning around and making his way back to her.

"Truly, Tauriel, I would give up that mountain and every piece of gold in it if it meant you could go home again. You'd be there now, warm and safe with the people you love, if only our company had never passed through your forest."

"I do miss my forest," Tauriel answered after some moments. "But I do not regret the choices I made that took me from it. You mustn't think me doomed, meleth nin, for I do not feel it. I feel as though I am part of the world for the first time in six hundred years. You have brought new meaning and new challenges to my life, Kili, and I would rather freeze here with you than spend an eternity warm and alone in the halls of my kin."

Tauriel moved over the snow and lifted her hands to frame his face. Kili's cheeks were warm beneath her hands, but he didn't seem to mind the coolness of her fingers.

"I only want to see you happy," Kili said softly as he circled her wrists with his hands.

Tauriel kissed him, just a quick peck on the lips, and said, "Good. Then come with me."

She led him through the town and up into the space that she had chosen to make a home. Kili listened as the elleth told him of her plans and how she envisioned the area taking shape, and when she was done he pulled her over to the wall furthest away from the snow and sat down. He beckoned for her to lie down; when she did and her head was resting in his lap, Kili started to brush out the long locks of her hair with his fingers as he told her about the restoration efforts in Erebor.

They stayed that way until the sun rose.


End file.
